c 


TheF&Ary 
Godmother 
-in-laujf  A 


OliverHerford 


/ 


JMUHi 


•t 


THE   FAIRY 
GODMOTHER-IN-LAW 


BOOKS    BY    OLIVER    HERFORD 

WITH    PICTURES     BY    THE    AUTHOR 

PUBLISHED  BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


THE    BASHFUL    EARTHQUAKE  .     .     .     .  $1.25 

A     CHILD'S     PRIMER     OF     NATURAL     HIS- 
TORY   $1.25 

OVERHEARD  IN  A   GARDEN $1.25 

MORE  ANIMALS net,  $1.00 

THE      RUBAIYAT      OF      A      PERSIAN      KIT- 
TEN      net,  $1.00 

THE  FAIRY  GODMOTHER-IN-LAW    net,  $1.00 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/fairygodmotherinOOherf 


The  Fairy 
Godmother-in-Law 

Oliver  Her  ford 


With  Some  Pictures 
"By  the  cAuthor 


New  York  •  Published  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons 


Copyright,   1903,   by 
OLIVER  HERFORD 

Published,  November,  1905 


THE  TROW  PRESS  .  NEW  YORK 


To    M.    H, 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Fairy  Godmother-in-law  .  .  i 
The  Charm  that  Failed  .  .  -31 
The  Silver  Question  .  .  .  .41 
How  the  Lion  Became  King  .  .  47 
The  Wakeful  Princess  ....  55 
A  Modern   Dialogue  ....     65 

The  Heart  of  Ice 71 

The  Judgment  of   Bishop  Valentine  .      75 

The  Bachelor  Girl 78 

Mephisto 80 

A  Corner  in   Curls 83 

The  Hydrant-Headed  Monster  .  .  93 
To  My  Toy  Canary  ....  95 
The  Hand  of  Time  .  .  .  .  .101 
Envoi  .  103 


THE    FAIRY 
GODMOTHER-IN-LAW 


PREFACE 

It  is  not  always  well  to  place 

Unbounded  Faith  in  Fairy  Lore, 

Believing  that  in  every  case 

They  all  lived  Happy  evermore. 

Stranger  than  Fiction  though  we  deem 
The  Truth,  it  does  not  follow,  too. 

That  Fairy  Tales,  because  they  seem 
Still  Stranger,  must  be  still  more  True. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  assail 

The  Truthfulness  of  Fairy  Writ, 

But  let  us  take  a  Weil-Known  Tale 
And  see  what  really  came  of  it. 


I 


THE    WEDDING 

When  Cinderella  wed  the  Prince 

She  thought  him  all  her  Fancy  Painted, 

And  this  was  not  surprising  since 

They  were  not  very  Well  Acquainted. 

While  he,  not  dreaming  where  she  got 

Glass  slippers,  counted  on  a  Dot, 

The  Prince  was  Brave,  Industrious,  Wise: 
Brave  in  bright  Silks  and  Satins  gay, 

Wise  in  the  Lore  of  Ladies'  Eyes, 
And  most  Industrious— at  Play  ; 

A  Leader,  too — in  Fashion's  Set ; 

And  Deep — that  is  to  say,  in  Debt. 
4 


Who  was  the  Somebody  of  Note  P 
(I  never  could  remember  names) 

Was  it  Mark  Twain  or  Mr.  Choate 
Or  Mrs.  Ward  or  Henry  James 

That  penn'd  those  words  of  Wise  Import, 

"Who  weds  in  haste  repents — in  court"? 

But  let  us  not  Anticipate. 

The  Princess  wore  a  Plain  Gold  Frock ; 
No  Fairy  Dress  to  spoil  the  fete 

By  vanishing  at  Twelve  o'clock. 
This  time  no  Spell  her  pleasure  blighted — 
Her  god-mamma  was  not  invited. 


Not  that  she  really  meant  to  flout 
Her  Benefactress  ;  but  you  see 

She  had  not  told  the  Prince  about 
Her  Fairy  Godmother,  lest  he 

Might  change  his  mind  if  he  foresaw 

A  Fairy  God-mamma-in-law. 

A  Fairy  may  be  Good  or  111, 
A  Godmother  Morose  or  Gay  ; 

A  Mother-in-law,  say  what  you  will, 
Is  not  immortal  any  way. 

But  wouldn't  it  a  Bridegroom  stun 

To  think  of  all  three  rolled  in  one  ? 


II 


THE     LETTER 

All  day  the  envelope  she  scann'd. 

But  though  her  royal  name  it  bore, 
'Twas  in  an  Unfamiliar  Hand. 

The  Postmark  puzzled  her  still  more. 
The  Princess  could  not  understand 
Who'd  write  to  her  from- 


She  turned  it  Left,  she  turned  it  Right, 
She  pinched  it,  shook  it  too  and  fro, 

She  held  it  up  against  the  Light, 
And  topsy-turvy  wise — but  no, 

It  still  continued  to  preserve 

Its  air  of  Self-contained  Reserve. 

9 


One  day  the  Princess  in  a  Pet, 
It  was  her  Last,  her  only  hope, 

Summoned  her  Trusty  Cabinet, 
To  Sit  upon  the  Envelope, 

And  at  no  matter  what  expense, 

To  end  her  Terrible  Suspense. 

But  all  their  Learned  Consultations 
Ended  in  Nought,  for  what  avail 

Mere  Mans  Unerring  Calculations 

Where  WOMAN'S  Intuitions  fail? 

Their  Weighty  Brains  refused  to  cope 

With  that  Unyielding  Envelope. 


She  put  the  matter  in  the  Hands 
Of  the  Police;  she  went  to  see 

Astrologers  from  Foreign  Lands 
And  experts  in  Chirography; 

And  offered  Large  Rewards  to  all 

Who  furnished  Clues,  however  small. 

But  no  one  came  for  the  Reward, 
Nor  would  the  Envelope  betray 

The  Secret  in  its  bosom  stored, 

When  by  the  Merest  Chance  one  day 

She  overheard  a  Child,  who  cried, 

"  If  it  were  mine,  Fd  look  inside  F 


II 


Tossing  the  Tot  a  Thousand  Pounds, 
The  Princess  to  her  Chamber  sped  ; 

Her  Joy  and  Rapture  knew  no  bounds; 
She  tore  the  Envelope  and  read 

A  note  from  god-mamma,  to  say, 
She  might  expect  her  any  day. 


12 


Ill 


THE    VISIT 

One  day  as  Cinderella  ate 

Her  Simple  Lunch  of  sixteen  courses, 
A  Golden  Coach  drove  up  in  state, 

Drawn    by     a     team    of    Mouse-Grey 
horses, 
And  on  the  carriage  door  were  scrolled 
The  Letters  F.  G.  M.,  in  gold 

The  Princess  dropped  a  Jelly  Roll, 

Which    tipped   with    Pink    her   Crystal 
Shoe, 

And  cried,  "  O  my  prophetic  soul ! 

My  G^-mamma!     What  shall  I  do?" 

Then,  Ladylike,  she  cut  the  knot 

By  simply  fainting  on  the  spot. 

13 


Strong  Fairy  Salts  soon  brought  her  to. 

She  looked  up  in  a  startled  way. 
"  Why,  God-mamma — can  that  be  you  ? 

How  sweet !    I  hope  you've  come  to  stay. 
The  Prince  will  simply  be  enchanted.' 
"Your   Wish,"   quoth  God-mamma,   "is 
granted." 


14 


True  to  her  word,  the  Fairy  soon 

Was  quite  at  home.     The  royal  Attic 
She  turned  into  a  Grand  Saloon, 

Where     with     her     cats     she     reigned 
ecstatic. 
"Henceforth,"  said  she,  "I'll  live  at  lei- 
sure, 
And  only  work  my  Spells  for  pleasure." 

She  had  a  Sense  of  Humor  dry, 

She  loved  her  Little  Joke — and  tho' 

None  of  her  Tricks  were  prompted  by 
A  spiteful  heart  or  love  of  show, 

To  love  one's  Joke  does  not,  it's  true, 

Imply  that  Others  love  it  too. 


15 


She  had  a  disconcerting  way, 

When  Argument  became  a  bore, 

Of  saying  what  she  had  to  say 

And  disappearing  through  the  Floor, 

A  joke  that  never  failed  to  cause 

A  weird,  if  not  side-splitting,  Pause. 

At  meals,  if  there  appeared  a  dish 
God-mamma  did  not  find  appealing, 

She'd  wave  her  wand,  and  Fowl  or  Fish 
Would  promptly  vanish  thro'  the  ceiling, 

And  in  its  place  would  be  Fried  Mole 

Or  Crocodile  en  casserole. 


16 


One  day  some  Ladies  of  the  Court 
Performed  a  Play  which  bored  her  so, 

She  up  and  cried,  "  That's  not  my  sort !  " 
And  changed  it  to  a  Ballet  show. 

A  Tactless  Joke,  which  caused,  of  course, 

Much  talk — and  more  than  one  Divorce. 

17 


But  nothing  gave  her  such  delight, 
Or  keener  Sense  of  Humor  showed, 

Than  when  the  Prince  came  home  at  night; 
She'd  change  his  door-key  to  a  Toad, 

And  laugh  to  see  it  hop  about, 

Or  turn  the  Key-Hole  inside  out. 

Once,  weary  of  her  Pesterings, 
The  Prince  apostrophized  a  bird, 

Exclaiming,  "  Would  I  too  had  wings  !  " 
It  chanced  the  Fairy  overheard, 

And,  with  the  very  best  intentions, 

Granted  him  wings  of  Large  Dimensions. 


18 


Now  wings  (as  any  Naturalist 
Will  tell  you)  are  but  variations 

Of  arms,  and  cannot  co-exist 

With  such-like  Brachial  Formations. 

Accordingly,  he  lost  his  arms, 

Which  handicaps  a  Prince's  charms. 

To  his  embarrassment  and  woe, 

He  had  to  be  both  dressed  and  fed 

And  brushed  and  bathed  and  put—  but  no, 
That  he  was  spared.     His  Wings  when 
spread 

Were  Forty  Feet  from  side  to  side; 

Bed  was  a  luxury  denied. 


19 


He    soon     repented     of    his 
Whim. 
With     wings     like     wind- 
mill sails,  of  course, 
No  room  was  big  enough  for  him. 

So  all  night  long,  in  Chill  Remorse, 
He  perched  upon  the  roof.     At  dawn 
The  spell  was  happily  withdrawn. 
20 


About  this  time  the  Princess  planned 
A  grand  Subscription  Ball,  to  aid 

The  Starving  Shepherds  of  the  land. 
The   Prince,  when  told  the  shepherds5 
trade 

Included  Shepherdesses  too, 

Subscribed  a  Thumping  I.  O.  U. 

Upon  the  evening  of  the  ball, 

It  chanced  that  God-mamma-in-law, 

Flitting  about  the  Palace  Hall, 

Passed  by  the  Prince's  Suite,  and  saw 

His  gladsome  Evening  Robes  outspread 

In  neat  array  upon  the  bed. 


21 


She  eyed  them  sadly.      Here  in  places 
The  silken  pile  was  wearing  thin  ; 

And  here  were  stains  and  here  were  traces 
Of  where  the  Moth  had  broken  in. 

"  Aha  !     Aha  !   it's  plain  to  see 

This  is  a  little  job  for  me  ! 

"  I'll  make  him  a  new  suit,"  said  she, 
"  A  brave  new  suit  without  a  flaw. 

I'd  like  to  know  what  Home  would  be 
Without  a  God-mamma-in-law." 

And  in  its  place  upon  the  bed 

A  Fairy  Substitute  she  spread. 


11 


All  unobserved,  she  slipped  away, 
Delighted  with  her  Little  Game, 

And,  seeking  some  new  trick  to  play, 
To  Cinderella's  closet  came. 

Where  for  her  golden  robe  of  state 

She  left  a  Fairy  Duplicate. 

Dressed  for  the  ball,  they  drove  in  State, 
Looking  superlatively  swell ; 

God-mamma  pleaded  mal  de  tite 

And  from  her  window  waved  farewell. 

Her  voice  rose  o'er  the  people's  cheers, 

"  Be  back  at  twelve  o'clock  my  dears !  " 


23 


IV 


THE    BALL 

Before  the  splendors  of  the  Ball 

The  Boldest  Metaphor  grows  tame; 

Superlatives  abjectly  crawl 

Back  to  their  lexicon  in  shame, 

And  Synonyms  in  shrieking  chorus 

Take  refuge  in  the  deep  Thesaurus. 

But  language  has  its  Pioneers, 

Who  seek  Fresh  Words  and  Postures 
new, 
Slang  rushes  in  where  Syntax  fears 
To  tread — so  I  for  Ade  halloo, 
And  say  (with  George's  kind  permission) 
It  was  "  A  Heated  Proposition" 
24 


The  Princess  never  dreamed  her  frock 
Of  gold  was  wrought  by  fairy  power. 

And  set,  like  an  alarming  Clock, 
To  go  off&t  the  midnight  hour. 

Her  childish  laugh  rang  with  delight : 

"  Thank  G^-mamma's  not  here  to-night.,: 

Prince  Charming  looked  his  very  best 
To — I  mean  at — the  Ladies  Fair  ; 

No  dread  foreboding  stirred  his  breast ; 
No  Writing  on  the  Wall  was  there 

To  Tell  him  of  the  Awful  Shock 

Awaiting  him  at  Twelve  O'clock. 


25 


MIDNIGHT 

Again  (see  chapter  on  The  Ball) 

The  Boldest  Metaphor  grows  tame; 

Superlatives  abjectly  crawl 

Back  to  their  lexicon  in  shame, 

And  Synonyms  in  shrieking  chorus 

Take  refuge  in  the  deep  Thesaurus. 

But  every  cloud  that  bars  the  sun 
They  say  with  silverwear  is  lined ; 

And  tho'  they  felt  they  were  Undone, 
Their  Highnesses  were  cheered  to  find 

At  midnight  when  their  Robes  took  wings, 

They  kept  their — well,  their  Other  Things. 
26 


Perchance,   Dear    Reader, 
you  have  noted 
In      that      Department 
which  to  Trade  is 

By    Monthly     Magazines 
devoted, 


The  Pleasant  Gentle- 
men and  Ladies 

Whose  Union  Suits  our 
souls  bewitch — 

The  Simple  Flannels  of 
the  Rich. 


27 


Even  arrayed  as  one  of  these, 

In  Homespun  stood  the  Royal  Twain, 
While  people  cried,  on  bended  knees, 

"  Long  live  their  Majesties  !  who  deign 
Thus  by  example  to  Restore 
Our  Woolen  Industry  of  Yore  !  " 

Thro'  all  the  Land  the  Tidings  sped 
From    Door   to    Door,   from    Wife    to 
Wife, 

Thro'  all  the  Land  the  Fashion  spread 
For  Woolen  and  the  Simple  Life. 

New  looms  sprang  up  on  every  hand 

And  shepherds  prospered  in  the  land. 


28 


Poor  God-mamma,  'twas  her  last  caper; 

One  night  to  throw  some  Light  about 
She  changed  herself  into  a  Taper, 

And  Cinderella  blew  her  out.- 
The  Princess  then  divorced  the  Prince, 
And  Both  lived  Happy  Ever  Since. 


<l9 


3° 


THE    CHARM    THAT 
FAILED 


/~-f 


HE  Hero  of  my  tale 

Was  a  serpent — don't  turn 
pale  ! 
My  snake  was  not  the  "ser- 
pent "  of  Theology 
With  an  apple  up  his  sleeve 
To    tempt    some    child    of 
Eve, 

Nor  was  he  versed  in  deadly  Toxicology. 
No,  his  fangs  were  free  from  guile, 
And  he  had  a  roomy  smile. 
There  was  no  more  harmless  snake  in  all 
Zoology. 

3i 


But  since  no  creature  known 

Is  perfect,  I  will  own 
He  had  one  failing — vanity,  alas  !   innate. 

He  was  also  fond  of  sport, 

Though  not  a  cruel  sort : 
His  aim  was  more  to  charm  than  to  assas- 
sinate. 

He  was  often  heard  to  say, 

When  feeling  rather  gay, 
"  I'd  like  to  see   the   Bird   I    cannot  fas- 
cinate !  " 

And  one  day 

Some  laughter -loving  Fay 
His  boasting  heard, 
And  sent  a  Bird, 


3n~ 


It  was  sitting,  stuffed  and  stiff  on 
A  thing  of  straw  and  chiffon, 
Ribbands  and  lace  and  jet  and  such  like 
finery, 
By  a  milliner  begotten 
And  some  careless  maid  forgotten, 
33 


In    stuffed    and    lonely    splendor    in    the 
Vinery, 
When  with  expectant  eye 
Mr.  Serpent,  by  and  by, 
Strolled  forth  in  search  of  game  from  out 
the  Pinery. 

And  the  Bird 
Never  stirred 
Or  said  a  word. 

"  Aha  !  "  said  Mr.  Snake, 
"  Unless  I  much  mistake, 
Here's  a  charming   subject  for  a  Trance 
Hypnotic ; 
Soon  I'll  have  her  in  my  toils  !  " 
And  with  mysterious  coils 


34 


He  advanced  with  air  complacent  and  des- 
potic. 

Then  he  rose  up,  and  let  fly 

A  glance  from  out  his  eye, 
And  watched  for  the  effect  of  his  narcotic. 

And  the  Bird 

Never  stirred 
Or  said  a  word. 

Said  Mr.  Snake,  "  My  spell 
Seems  to  work  extremely  well." 
And  straightway  with   Majestic   Pride   he 
puffed,' 
But  when  an  hour  had  pass'd, 
And  still  the  Bird  stood  fast, 


35 


I  must  confess  he  felt  a  trifle  hufT'd. 

"There's  something  wrong,"  said  he, 
"  With  the  Bird — or  else  with  me." 

How  should  he  know  the  wretched  thing 
was  stuffed  ? 

That  Bird, 

Who  never  stirred 

Or  said  a  word. 

Mr.  Snake  was  sorely  troubled, 
And  his  efforts  he  redoubled, 
And  he  balanced  on  the  tip  end  of  his  tail, 
Swaying  to  and  fro  the  while 
Like  a  pendulum — a  style 


36 


That  hitherto  he'd  never  known  to  fail. 
But  not  a  word  she  uttered, 
And  not  a  feather  fluttered 

As  he  plied  his  mystic  Art  without  avail. 


"  Confound  the  bird  !  "  he  said, 
And  he  stood  upon  his  head 
And  waved  his  long  mysterious  tail  in  air, 
And  he  focussed  all  the  rays 
Of  his  esoteric  gaze 

37 


Into  one  cold  and  petrifying  glare. 

But  the  Deadly  Glance  fell  wide ; 

He  might  as  well  have  tried 
To  hypnotize  a  table  or  a  chair — 

As  that  Bird, 
Who  never  stirred 
Or  said  a  word. 

"  That  settles  it !  "  he  cried. 
"  I  will  not  be  defied  !  " 
And  he  coiled  himself  to  spring — oh,  rash 
proceeding ! 
Like  an  arrow  from  a  bow 
He  sprang — how  should  he  know 


38 


The    Doom   to   which    he  was   so    swiftly 
speeding  P 
Next  moment  he  lay  dead, 
With  a  Hat  Pin  through  his  head, 
Whereat,  with  most  commendable  good- 
breeding — 

The  Bird 

Never  stirred 
Or  said  a  word. 


4o 


THE    SILVER 
QUESTION 


THE    Sun    appeared    so    smug    and 
bright, 
One  day,  that  I  made  bold 
To  ask  him  what  he  did  each  night 
With  all  his  surplus  gold. 


He  flushed  uncomfortably  red, 
And  would  not  meet  my  eye. 

"  I  travel  round  the  world,"  he  said, 
"  And  travelling  rates  are  high." 
4i 


With      frigid     glance     I      pierced      him 
through. 
He     squirmed      and     changed      his 
tune. 
Said  he :  "I  will  be  frank  with  you  : 
I  lend  it  to  the  Moon. 
42 


"  Poor  thing  !    You  know  she's  growing 
old 

And  hasn't  any  folk. 
She  suffers  terribly  from  cold, 

And  half  the  time  she's  broke." 

That  evening  on  the  beach  I  lay 

Behind  a  lonely  dune, 
And  as  she  rose  above  the  bay 

I  buttonholed  the  Moon. 
• 
"  Tell  me  about  that  gold,"  said  I. 

I  saw  her  features  fall. 
"  You  see,  it's  useless  to  deny  ; 

The  Sun  has  told  me  all." 

"  Sir!  "  she  exclaimed,  "  how  can  you  try 
An  honest  Moon  this  way  ? 

As  for  the  gold,  I  put  it  by 
Against  a  rainy  day." 

43 


i 


^-^  a^jiu^TcdQ 


44 


I  smiled  and  shook  my  head.    "  All  right, 
If  you  must  know,"  said  she, 

"  I  change  it  into  silver  bright 
Wherewith  to  tip  the  Sea. 

"He  is  so  faithful  and  so  good, 

A  most  deserving  case  ; 
If  he  should  leave,  I  fear  it  would 

Be  hard  to  fill  his  place." 

When  asked  if  they  accepted  tips, 
The  waves  became  so  rough  ; 

I  thought  of  those  at  sea  in  ships, 
And  felt  I'd  said  enough. 


45 


For  if  one  virtue  I  have  learned, 

'Tis  tact ;  so  I  forbore 
To  press  the  matter,  though  I  burned 

To  ask  one  question  more. 

I  hate  a  scene,  and  do  not  wish 
To  be  mixed  up  in  gales, 

But,  oh,  I  longed  to  ask  the  Fish 

Whence  came  their  silver  scales ! 


ri...„...r.,..^  .    A  .        .         .  .;,;;■_..-■ 


^5«r 


a 


NL -■'■":'■    :; :'■.  iY ~^**?^c^t 


46 


HOW  THE    LION 
BECAME    KING 


ONCE  in  the  hazy  days  of  Yore 
(I  cannot  very  well  be  more 
Explicit,  since  it  was  before 
Dates  were  invented). 
Once  on  a  time,  as  I  began 
To  say,  the  Lion  formed  a  plan 
To  undermine  the  rule  of  Man, 
Which  he  resented. 


47 


In  answer  to  the  Lion's  call, 

His  fellow-creatures,  great  and  small, 

From  earth  and  air  came  one  and  all 

In  Trepidation. 
He  then  delivered  a  discourse, 
And  proved  with  eloquence  and  force 
Man  was  their  one  and  only  source 

Of  Tribulation. 

"  What  is  he — taken  at  his  best? 

A  mere  pretence  !    Not  even  dressed, 

If  we  his  puny  form  divest 

Of  spoil  he's  looted. 
The  fact  that  we  can  far  excel 
His  boasted  Strength  and  Speed,  as  well 
As  Hearing,  Sight,  and  Taste  and  Smell, 

Is  undisputed. 


48 


"  I  am  not  boasting  when  I  own 

For  Strength  I'd  back  my  claws  alone 

Against  his  battle-axe  of  stone  ; 

While,  as  to  Vision, 
'Tis  nothing  more  than  idle  talk 
To  mention  Man  beside  the  Hawk — 
The  swift  Horse,  too,  his  clumsy  walk 

Views  with  derision. 

"Only  Man's  Ignorance,  I'm  bound 
To  say,  could  possibly  confound 
The  Scent  and  Hearing  of  the  Hound 

With  his  dull  powers  ; 
As  well  his  Taste,  that  gluts  on  fare 
Like  half-burnt  Antelope  and  Bear, 
With  the  fastidious  Bee  compare, 

That  sips  the  flowers. 


49 


"And  yet,"  the  Lion  said,  "though  we 
Outshine  Man  to  the  last  degree 
Collectively,  none  holds  as  he 
The  Combination. " 

5° 


In  short,  the  moral  of  his  theme 
Was  this  :   If  Beasts  would  reign  supreme 
Their  only  practicable  scheme 
Was  Federation. 


5i 


And  so,  in  view  of  Public  Need, 

The    Hawk,    Hound,    Bee,    and    Horse 

agreed 
To   pool  their   Sight,   Scent,   Taste,   and 
Speed ; 

And  in  due  season 
They  made,  pro  tem.,  the  Lion  King, 
Intrusting  him  with  everything 
Upon  condition  he  would  bring 

Proud  Man  to  reason. 

The  crafty  Lion  then  proposed 
To  send  an  Embassy  composed 
Of  those  same  four.     As  none  opposed, 
They  started  straightway, 


52 


And,  coming  to  Man's  portals  wide, 
They  entered,  but  no  trace  espied 
Of  Man,  until  (from  the  outside) 
He  closed  the  gateway. 

And  there  he  kept  them  till  they  swore 
To  be  his  servants  evermore, 
And  work  his  will,  and  bow  before 

His  rod  of  iron  : 
The  Dog  to  watch,  the  Hawk  to  kill, 
The  Horse  to  carry  and  to  till, 
The  Bee  with  sweets  his  jars  to  fill. 

All  save  the  Lion — 

The  Lion  stayed  at  home — and  purred, 
And  kept  thenceforth  the  crown  conferred 
Pro  tern.,  and  nothing  more  was  heard 
About  Conditions. 


S3 


So  ends  my  tale.      Perchance  it  brings 
Some  light  to  bear  on  certain  things — 
Such  as  the  Origin  of  Kings, 
And  Politicians. 


54 


THE   WAKEFUL 
PRINCESS 

ONE  Time  there  lived  (that  is  to  say, 
If  half  a  crust  of  bread  a  day 
And  sleeping  on  a  bed  of  hay 

May  so  be  rated) 
A  Gentle  Youth  who  tuned  his  lay 

To  all  the  Metres  of  the 

day, 
But  was  not,  I  regret  to 

say, 
yS,       Appreciated. 


In  Market-place  or  Public  Way 
He  read  his  ode  or  sang  his  lay, 
As  was  the  custom  of  the  day, 

But  none  suggested 
A  Laurel  Wreath  or  Crown  of  Bay  : 
Instead,  one  morn,  to  his  dismay, 
While  spouting  forth  a  Tragic  Play, 

He  was  arrested. 

In  Irons  he  was  led  away, 

And,  by  a  Justice  stern  and  gray, 

For  blocking  up  the  Public  Way 

He  was  indicted. 
Then,  since  he  had  nowith  to  pay 
The  Fine  (a  trifle  anyway), 
To  leave  the  town  without  delay 

He  was  invited. 


56 


There  was  no  choice  but  to  obey — 
He  left  the  town  at  break  of  day, 
Yet  still  his  heart  was  brave  and  gay ; 

Fate  could  not  queer  him. 
For  was  it  not  the  month  of  May, 
Were  there  not  flowers  beside  the  way, 
And  little  lambs  to  sport  and  play, 

And  birds  to  cheer  him  ? 


He  journeyed  on  for  many  a  day ; 

The  Peasants  gave  him  Curds  and  Whey; 

For  aught  I  know  the  Fairies  may 

Some  Food  have  found  him. 
At  night  he  slept  beneath  a  Bay 
Or  Laurel  Tree,  and,  I  dare  say, 
Dreamed  he  was  Laureate,  and  they 

Were  twined  around  him. 

Indeed,  his  only  trouble  lay 
In  this,  that  tho'  his  spirits  gay 
And  gentle  Heart  and  winning  way 

Charmed  and  delighted 
All  whom  he  met,  yet,  strange  to  say, 
To  hear  his  verses  none  would  stay — 
Even  the  Peasants  ran  away 

When  he  recited. 


58 


But  he  was  not  the  sort  that  say, 
"  Oh,  woe  is  mine — alack-a-day  !  " 
He  lived  for  Hope,  and  in  some  way 

Was  bound  to  find  it. 
"  What  matter  !     Let  them  go,"  he'd  say ; 
"  Each  to  his  taste — henceforth  I'll  play 
And  sing  to  Birds  alone,  for  they 

Don't  seem  to  mind  it." 
S9 


And  so  he  journeyed  many  a  day, 
Till  now  at  last  his  darkening  way 
Lies  thro'  a  forest  dim  and  gray; 

Yet,  nothing  daunted, 
Though  hoary  branches  bar  the  way, 
And  twisted  roots  his  steps  betray, 
And  ghostly  voices  seem  to  say 

The  place  is  haunted, 

Singing  a  Carol  blithe  and  gay, 
He  presses  on,  nor  does  he  stay, 
Until  at  last  the  light  of  day 

His  sight  surprises. 
And  now  a  little  winding  way 
Leads,  through  a  meadow  pink  with  May, 
To  where,  not  half  a  mile  away, 

A  Palace  rises. 


60 


He  wandered  on,  his  thoughts  astray, 

Framing  a  little  Roundelay 

And  weaving  garlands  of  the  May 

(For  whom  not  guessing), 
Until  before  him  suddenly 
There  loomed  a  gateway  grim  and  gray, 
Whose  dark  doors  yielded  to  the  sway 

Of  his  light  pressing. 


61 


And  lo  !   a  garden  gleaming,  gay 
With  flowers  in  dazzling  array, 
And  fountains  flashing  silver  spray, 

And  bowers  shady ; 
And  on  an  emerald  bank  there  lay 
A  creature  fairer  than  the  day, 
Yet  sadder  than  a  moonlight  ray — 

A  wondrous  lady. 

Abashed  the  Poet  turned  away, 
When  a  low  voice  entreated,  "  Stay  ! 
Read  me  that  little  Roundelay 
I  heard  you  singing." 


62 


It  was  as  though  upon  him  lay 
A  spell  that  forced  him  to  obey, 
And  he  recited  it  straightway 
In  voice  clear  ringing. 

A  dreamy,  languid,  far-away 
Expression  dims  her  eyes  as  they, 
Like  violets  at  droop  of  day, 

Are  closing — closing. 
The  Poet  ends  his  Roundelay, 
And  turns  to  hear  what  she  may  say, 
And  finds  to  his  complete  dismay 

The  Princess  dozing. 


63 


Then  rose  a  cry  :    "  She  sleeps  !    Hurray  ! 
The  Princess  sleeps  !   Oh,  joyful  day  ! 
The  spell  is  broken — Rise,  I  pray, 

Oh,  sweet  song-maker." 
'Twas  the  King  spoke,  "Arise,  I  pray: 
I  make  you  Laureate  this  day  ; 
My  daughter's  hand,  too,  by  the  way, 

Is  yours — don't  w7ake  her." 


64 


A    MODERN 
DIALOGUE 

SCENE — On  Manhattan  Island.     Time 
— To-day.    Hour — Ten-thirty.     Per- 
sons of  the  play : 

Sibyl.     A  dream  of 'beauty ',  half-awake, 
In  filmy  disarray — about  to  take 
Her  morning  tub.     In  speech  with  her  the 

while 
Is  Robert.      He  is  dressed  in  riding  style. 
Sibyl — Why,  Bob,  it's  you  !     They  got 
your  name  all  wrong. 
I'm  sorry  that  I   made  you  wait 
so  long. 

65 


Bob —    Only  six  minutes  by  my  watch — 
it's  true 
A  minute  seems  a  year,  awaiting 

you  ! 
But  Time  is  merciful  and  I  rejoice 
That  I  am  still  alive  to  hear  your 
voice. 
Sibyl — A    very    pretty    speech,   for    you, 
indeed. 
But    what    extenuation    can    you 

plead 
For  waking  ladies  at  the  break  of 

day 
From  peaceful  slumbers,  sir ! 
Bob —  Oh,  come,  I  say  ! 

It's  half  past  ten  ! 
Sibyl —  Well,  it  was  nearly  three 

Before  I  got  to  bed ! 


66 


Bob —  Good  gracious  me  ! 

I'm  sure  I'd  no  idea  it  was  so  late. 
Why,  I  was  riding  in  the  Park  at 

eight 
And  looked  for  you.     I   own    I 

felt  abused  ; 

Last  night  you  said 

Sibyl —  I  beg  to  be  excused 

From    keeping   foolish   promises, 

when  made 
At  two  a.m.,  by  moonlight.     I'm 

afraid 
My   memory's   no   better  than  a 

sieve. 
So  you  expected  me  ?     The  Lord 

forgive 
Your  trusting  soul ! 
Bob —  It  is  His  metier! 


67 


Sibyl — Don't  be  outrageous,  or  I'll  run 

away. 
Bob —    Ah,  no ;  don't  go.    I  will  be  good, 
I  swear  ! 
'Twas  a  quotation,  Heine,  or  Vol- 
taire, 
Or  some   fool   cynic   fellow.      By 

the  way, 
Ir  you  have  nothing  on,  what  do 

you  say 
To  breakfasting  with  Peg  and  me 

at  noon 
At  the  Casino  ? 
Sibyl —         Well,  that's  rather  soon  ; 

I   can't   be  ready  for  an  hour  or 
more. 
Bob —    Come  as  you  are,  you  know  that 
I  adore 


68 


Your  ladyship  in  any  sort  of  gown; 
Besides,  there's  not  another  soul 

in  town. 
Come  as  you  are ;  there'll  only  be 
we  three. 
Sibyl — Well,  I  like  that !     It's  fortunate 
for  me 
This  is  a  telephone  and  not  that 

new 
Invention   one  can   talk    and   see 

through,  too  ! 
What's  that  you  said  ? 
Bob —  I  didn't  speak  at  all 

I  only  thought. 
Sibyl —  Well,  don't !    Suppose  we  call 

The  breakfast  half  past  one  instead 
of  noon  ? 
Bob  [joyously) — 

Then  you  will  come  ? 

69 


Sibyl —  I  swear  ! 

Bob —  Not  by  the  moon  ? 

Sibyl  [laughing] — 

No,  you  may  count  on  me.    Now 

I  must  fly. 
One-thirty — don't  forget — Good- 
by! 
Bob —  Good-by ! 

(They  ring  off.) 


70 


THE    HEART 
OF    ICE 

NOW  whither  are  you  flying 
And  on  what  game  intent, 
Cupid  ?     There's  no  denying 

On  mischief  you  are  bent. 
What  is  the  use  of  trying 
To  look  so  innocent? 

What  means  your  empty  quiver  ? 

Did  heart  of  some  coquette 
Your  golden  arrows  shiver  ? 

Or  did  you,  boy,  upset 
Your  darts  in  Lethe's  river, 

Or  break  them  in  a  pet  ? 

71 


What  is  it  you're  concealing, 
My  patience  to  annoy? 

A  heart  you  have  been  stealing, 
Or  some  such  foolish  toy  ? 

Come,  now — no  double-dealing  ! 
Out  with  it — Cupid,  boy  ! 

"  I  have,"  quoth  Cupid,  shyly, 
"  A  thing  wherewith  to  hew 

Cold  hearts  "  (he  hinted  slyly 
That  such  a  heart  I  knew). 

"  'Tis  recommended  highly — 
An  ice-pick — what  say  you  ?  " 


72 


Gravely  I  shake  my  finger 
At  Cupid — "  'Tis  indeed 

The  very  thing  to  bring  her 
To  reason,  boy,  so  speed  ! 

Fly,  Cupid  !     Do  not  linger — 
Jove  grant  you  may  succeed  !  " 


73 


74 


THE   JUDG- 
MENT  OF 
BISHOP 
VALENTINE 


ONE  tyme  a  Youthe  of  faire  degree 
Didde  looke  upon  a  Mayde.     Ah 
me, 
She  was  as  coye  as  anye  flow'r. 
She  stole  hys  harte  in  thatte  sayme  how'r. 
Alle  vainlie  he  to  Love  didde  calle, 
Ye  blinde  Godde  holp  hym  notte  atte  alle. 

75 


To  Bishop  Valentine  thenne  hies 

Ye  Youthe,  ye  Damosel  likewyse, 

Ande  each  'gan  tell  hys  tayle  of  griete. 

Each  sayd  ye  other  was  ye  thiefe. 

"  Zounds  !  "  cried  ye  Sainte,  "  this  brawle 

must  cease. 
I'll  binde  ye  bothe  to  keepe  ye  peace." 
Whereat  ye  twain  in  nowyse  loath, 
"  Pray    then    wyth    one    bond     binde    us 

bothe." 
Loude  laughed  ye  Sainte,  "  Perdi !     'Tis 

done !  " 
And  made  ye  Youthe  and  Mayden  one. 


76 


Lady,  anent  this  suit  of  mine 

In  search  of  precedents,  I  waded 
Through  ancient  lore,  and  found  this  fine 

Old  Judgment,  in  a  parchment  faded. 
If  you  will  ponder  the  last  line 

And  be  by  wise  example  aided, 
We,  too,  will  make  Saint  Valentine 

Our  Judge,  and — compromise,  as  they 
did. 


77 


THE    BACHELOR 
GIRL 

HERE'S  to  the  Bachelor  Girl 
Who     fain     her    charms   would 
cloister. 
She  is  a  precious  pearl 

That  will  not  leave  the  oyster. 
She  is  a  proud  sweet-pea 

That  scorns  to  be  a  vine, 
And  lean  upon  a  tree 

Or  round  a  stick  entwine. 
"  What !  lean  upon  a  stick  ! 

Oh,  no  !     I'm  not  that  sort — 
I  will  grow  branches  thick 
And  be  my  own  support ! " 

78 


Beware,  O  pearl  of  price, 

Lest  you  be  cast  to  swine ; 
O  proud  sweet-pea,  think  twice 

Ere  you  refuse  to  twine  ! 
O  Bachelor  Girl,  we  drink 

Confusion  to  your  plan  ; 
Beware,  lest  Fate  shall  link 

You  to  a  Spinster  Man  ! 
O  change,  ere  'tis  too  late, 

The  choker  tall  and  silly, 
The  tweeds— -the  hat  we  hate, 

For  something  soft  and  frilly  ! 
Take  off  the  stockings  blue, 

(We  will  avert  our  gaze), 
Then  will  we  drink  to  you 
■  Long  life — and  happy  days  ! 


79 


^X'- 


WE'VE     drunk     to     everything    we 
know, 
From  Lang  Syne  to  The  Ladies ; 
Now,  one  more  Toast  before  we  go — 

Mephisto,  Prince  of  Hades  ! 
When  sober  we  are  wont,  'tis  true, 

To  bury,  not  to  praise  him ; 
But  let  us  give  the  De'il  his  due, 

And  toast  him  while  we  raise  him. 
For  tho'  his  company  we're  taught 

To  shun,  there's  no  denying 
Mephisto  never  yet  was  caught 
Beneath  false  colors  flying. 
80 


He  wears  his  coat  and  plume  of  red 

With  candor  so  unswerving 
We  must  applaud,  although  'tis  said 

He  took  some  points  from  Irving. 
Think  of  the  Stage,  think  of  the  Church, 

Without  their  villain  ruddy, 
If  Old  Nick  left  them  in  the  lurch 

Without  an  understudy  ! 
As  well  "  Othello  "  played  without 

The  Gentleman  of  Color, 
Or  "  Hamlet "  with  the  Prince  left  out : 

Could  anything  be  duller  ? 
A  world  from  all  temptation  free 

Would  sadly  lack  in  flavor ; 
And  what  would  Untried  Virtue  be 

But  Salt  without  its  savor? 


81 


To  pawn  his  soul  the  sinner  goes 

More  than  half-way  to  meet  him, 
Yet  when  Mephisto  would  foreclose 

He  does  his  best  to  cheat  him. 
In  Church  to-day  we  sound  his  Knell, 

To-morrow  at  a  revel 
We  fall  to  raising  him — and — well, 

We  treat  him  like  the  Devil. 
So  let  us  toast  our  Foe  of  Foes, 

Long  may  we  live  to  rout  him. 
Here's  to  Mephisto  !   Goodness  knows 

What  would  we  do  without  him. 
And,  good  Mephisto,  do  not  spurn 

Our  Toast  with  mocking  laughter, 
Nor  yet  the  compliment  return — 

By  Toasting  us  hereafter ! 


82 


A  CORNER  IN   CURLS 


ONCE  on  a  time  when  Men  were  Bold 
And  Women  Fair — to  be  precise — 
A  Princess  lived  whose 
Hair  was  Gold 
Beyond  the  Dreams    | 
of  Avarice  ; 


Beauty    she     had    and 
Wealth  untold, 
Besides   a    Fabulous 
Amount 
Of  Jewels  rare  and  Crowns  of  Gold, 
And  Suitors  more  than  she  could  count. 

83 


Such  Suitors!     Tho'  her  Fingers  Fair 
Had  been  as  leaves  upon  the  Trees 

They  still  were  far  too  few  to  wear 

The  Rings  they  offered,  on  their  Knees. 

In  Coaches,  Caravans,  and  Ships 
The  Suitors  came  in  Flocks  untold, 

Happy  to  kiss  her  Finger-tips 

And  beg  from  her  a  Lock  of  Gold. 

For  tho'  she  seemed  to  Cupid's  Dart 
Impervious,  and  would  not  share 

The  smallest  atom  of  her  Heart, 
She  was  most  lavish  with  her  Hair. 


84 


Vfe° 


i 


To  all  who  craved  the  Golden  Boon 
She  gave,  until  one  Night  her  Maid 

Exclaimed,  "Alas!  Your  Highness  soon 
Will  not  have  Hair  enough  to  braid!" 


Next  day  the  Court  was  in  a  state, 
The  usual  audience  was  refused, 

A  Notice  hung  upon  the  Gate — 
"  The  Princess  begs  to  be  Excused" 

85 


Daily  the  Throng  of  Suitors  grew 
And  clamored  madly  at  the  door, 

Until  at  length  they  formed  a  queue 
Extending  for  a  mile  or  more. 

The  Chancellor  was  in  despair. 

"  Princess,  it  comes  to  this,"  he  said, 
"  That  either  you  must  lose  your  hair 

Or  I  must  surely  lose  my  head  ! " 

The  Princess  turned  away  her  face. 

"  Oh,  dear,'*  she  cried,  "  this  grieves  me 
sore  ; 
It  will  be  hard  to  fill  your  place — 

You  were  a  first-rate  Chancellor ! 


86 


"  But  do  not  grieve — I  have  a  plan 

To  keep  your  head  and  save  my  Pride." 

Then  to  the  marble  gate  she  ran, 

Unloosed  her  hair,  stepped  forth,  and 
cried : 


"  Brave  Suitors,  look  upon  this  Gold, 
This  mint  of  Curls — lo,  I  present 

A  share  to  each  of  you — behold 

My  Notes  of  Curl — at  five  per  cent !  " 

A  cheer  rose  from  a  Thousand  Throats  ; 

The  panic  passed — and  months  flew  by. 
The  Princess  issued  Tons  of  Notes, 

When  lo  ! — a  Bolt  from  out  the  Sky — 


87 


A  message  came,  brought  by  a  Churl : 
"  Pont  Morgan,  Sultan  of  Peru, 

Has  bought  up  all  your  Notes  of  Curl, 
And  all  your  Notes  are  falling  Due  !  " 


The  Princess  grew  distraught  with  fears 
By  Day.     At  night  she  tossed  in  Bed, 

Dreaming  an  Awful  Pair  of  Shears 
Hung  by  a  Hair  above  her  Head. 


c^ 


At  last  the  Fatal  Morning  came, 

And  with  it  came  Pont  Morgan,  too, 

With  Awful  Shears  to  press  his  claim. 
And  an  Enormous  Retinue. 


"  The  Law  is  Just !  "  the  People  cried  ; 

"  And  She  the  Penalty  must  pay  ! " 
The  Shears  their  Awful  Jaws  spread  wide, 

When  suddenly  a  Voice  cried,  "  Stay  !  " 

89 


An  Unknown  Damsel,  Pale  and  Proud, 
And  clad  in  Silken  Cap  and  Gown, 

Strode  swiftly  through  the  gaping  crowd, 
And  struck  the  Awful  Scissors  down. 


"  Beware  !  "  she  cried,  "  Proud  Sultan,  ere 
You  touch  a  Hair  of  that  Fair  Head  ; 

For  know  you  not  that  Every  Hair 
Is  numbered — as  the  Prophet  said  ? 

90 


"  Show  me  the  Notes — see,  here  is  writ 
A  number  plain  across  each  Bond, 

And  you  may  only  draw  for  it 

The  numbered  Hair  to  correspond. 

"  So  pause,  Pont  Morgan,  ere  you  draw 
A  Single  Hair  from  that  Gold  Head  ; 

If  it  be  wrong — then  by  the  Law 

Your  Life  and  Lands  are  forfeited  !  " 


9i 


"Hurray!   Hurray!  The  Maid  is  Right!" 
The  People  cried  with  mad  uproar. 

The  Sultan  turned  a  deadly  white, 
And  fell  in  Fits  upon  the  Floor. 

"  O  Lady,  whosoe'er  you  be, 

Claim  what  you  will  in  all  my  Land ! 

The  Princess  cried.     "  I  am,"  said  he, 
"  Not  Maid,  but  Man — I  claim  your 
Hand." 


"  'Tis  yours  !     Right  gladly  will  I  be 
Your  Bride — for  in  Creation's  Plan 

I  never  dreamed  to  find,"  said  she, 
"  A  Portia's  Logic  in  a  Man  !  " 


92 


THE    HYDRANT- 
HEADED    MONSTER 

Being  an  epistle  to  Paul.    From  Temperance 

IT  comes  !  The  monster  rearing  high, 
Against  the  lurid  western  sky, 
Its  horrid,  hissing  Hydrant  Heads, 
While  o'er  the  shuddering  land  it  sheds 
93 


A  dreary  pall  of  waste  and  woe 
And  chilling  streams  of  H20. 
Now  saints  defend  us,  one  and  all, 
And  most  especially  Saint  Paul, 
Thou  patron  saint  of  Honest  Fighting 
And  Common  Sense  and  Letterwriting, 
Who  one  time,  for  his  "stomach's  sake," 
Bade  Timothy  the  wine  cup  take  ; 
Stay  now  this  Water  Fiend's  advance 
And  save  thy  servant  Temperance, 
Ere  Abstinence,  that  glum  wet-nurse 
Of  Dire  Dyspepsia,  Chills,  and  worse, 
Blow  out  the  Lights  of  Love  and  Mirth, 
And  so  asphyxiate  the  Earth. 


94 


TO    MY    TOY   CANARY 


EE  saffron  sage, 
Make-believe  bird,  fluffy, 

absurd, 
In  mimic  cage 
Through  beady  eyes  you  scrutinize 
A  Noisy  Age. 


You  boast  no  cc  Tree," 
No  painted  shell  your  Natal  Cell, 

Your  Pedigree, 
Neatly  displayed,  reads  simply,  "  Made 

In  Germany." 

95 


What  do  I  care 
Tho'  to  fresh  seed  you  pay  no  heed — 

Since  on  Plain  Air 
You  gayly  feast  ?     Of  that  at  least 

I  have  to  spare. 

You  do  not  pour 
From  your  wide  bill  a  gladsome  trill, 

Thanks  be,  therefore  ! 
The  best  of  tune,  repeated,  soon 

Becomes  a  bore  ! 

You  simply  stare 
When  I  exclaim  "Wilhelm"  (your  name)  ; 

You  do  not  care 
For  William  Hohenzollern,  tho' 

His  name  you  bear. 


96 


What  would  you  say 
If  William  the  Unsilent,  he 

Should  come  your  way  ? 
And   fume,   and   pout,   and   storm  —  and 
shout, 

cc  Lese-Majeste  !  " 

'Twould  vex  his  pride 
To  see  you  hold  that  Gift  of  Gold 

To  him  denied — 
"  Silence,"  the  sole  and  only  role 

He  has  not  tried. 

Fear  not  his  grim, 
Imperial  ire;   no  torture  dire, 

No  dungeon  dim, 
Your  fate  shall  be  :   This  land  is  free — 

At  least  from  him. 


97 


Wee  saffron  sage, 
Pipe  all  day  long  your  silent  song 

While  by  your  cage, 
Musing,  I  let  my  soul  forget 

The  Noisy  Age. 


99 


IOO 


THE    HAND   OF   TIME 


E  dreams  beneath  lamplight 

pale, 
Like  Beauty  in  the  fairy-tale 

Of  Messrs.  Grimm. 
And   as    I    gaze,   behold,   a 
Thing, 
A  shape,  a  face  white,  menacing, 
Hangs  o'er  her  'mid  a  ghostly  ring 
Of  figures  dim. 


Now  o'er  the  figures  dark  I  see 
A  hand  which  moves  relentlessly, 
Remorseless,  black. 


IOI 


The  hand'  of  Time — and  through  me  flit 
The  Solemn  words  by  Omar  writ, 
"  Not  all  your  piety  nor  wit 
Can  lure  it  back." 


She  sighs,  she  stirs,  her  lids  unclose 
Like  petals  of  a  pearly  rose 

After  the  rain. 
And  as  she  notes,  with  startled  eye, 
The  Station  Clock,  I  hear  her  cry, 
"  It's  twenty  minutes  past — oh,  my  ! 

I've  missed  my  train." 


102 


^4#& 


r  y*  J/!r:     &  /;[>/ Iff  1 


ENVOI 

"  f~)H,  Winter,  must  you  leave  so  soon?  " 
&7/V  Spring  as  Winter  turned  to  go. 

"  If  only  you  could  stay  till  June, 
And  help  to  make  my  garden  grow.'''' 
IO3 


So  back  again  that  night  he  goes 
To  see  the  Jlowers,  how  they  grow. 

Poor  thingSy  they  looked  so  cold,  he  throws 
O' er  them  a  coverlet — of  snow. 


Next  morning  Spring  was  full  of  woe 
To  find  her  fowers  frozen — dead. 

i  *  The  Fool  I  never  thought  he*  d  go 
And  take  me  at  my  word, ' '  she  said. 


IO4 


